The Perfect Victim | ONC 2026

Chapter 11: A Break?

The high-pitched voice of Nicki Minaj woke Zara from a short-lived slumber. She groaned as she searched the bedside table blindly for the screaming gadget.

Zara sighed at the caller ID on the screen. Nat had been calling nonstop for the past two days. She hadn't been in the state of mind to answer at that time, and she wasn't in the state of mind to answer now. She pressed the power button to silence the screaming gadget, dropped it face down on the table and allowed it to go to missed call.

She hissed as Nicki Minaj started to shriek again. She answered without bothering to look at the phone. "I swear to God Natasha. I know you're helping me look after Adele, but if you call me when I'm supposed to be sleeping one more time I will cut you off."

The hesitation on the other end was palpable. "Uhm... I'm not Natasha. Not unless I became a transgender woman overnight without my consent."

Zara frowned and withdrew the phone from her ear. Only a phone number was displayed on her screen. "Who is this?"

"This is Paul, the IT guy. You asked me to look into Geraldine's phone records."

Zara looked at her phone screen again. 3:45 am. "I assume you found something worthwhile if you're calling me by this time of the night. Do you know what time it is?"

"You're going to love this, detective." Papers rustled at his end. "I just finished pulling Mrs. Archibong's phone records and you were half-right. She was indeed being blackmailed, but by two different people."

Zara sat right up and rubbed at the sleep in her eyes.

"I love it already. Tell me more."

"I found two numbers that were blackmailing her. The numbers were not saved on her device, which is obvious since I said they were numbers earlier."

"Paul, I do not have time for this. I need my sleep."

"Right. Both numbers were blackmailing her with the affair. One wanted her to sponsor the engagement party. That had to obviously be Mr. Ortega, which proved to be true when I tracked the number. The other wanted her to kill Mr. Ortega. The number was harder to track though. It kept sending me to wrong details, bouncing me around. It was hard but trust me to..."

"...find the right person." She sighed. "Who was behind the number Paul?"

A loud exhale filtered through the speaker. "You should know, I hate it when I get interrupted during these things," he grumbled.

"I didn't know that. Now I know. Again, what did you find?"

Paul scoffed. "Fine. I'm only cutting this short because it's the middle of the night. Like I said earlier, I was bounced around a lot but I finally pinned down who the text was coming from." He took a dramatic pause.

Zara was about to call him out again when he continued.

"The number belonged to a Nkasiobi Achebe. I'm assuming that name is familiar to you."

The name was familiar. The name was more than familiar. And she liked that it was very familiar.

Zara has never been religious. As a little girl, she always chose to help with the chores instead of following the other children to block rosary fellowship or catechism classes. How she advanced to be part of those eligible for holy communion would forever remain a mystery. Her mum, on the other hand, was an overzealous Christian. If the Catholic priests were allowed to take wives, her mum would have married one. She was, still is, a praying woman.

She never bothered with that, barely said amen and hallelujah at intervals as required. Yesterday night though, she had made a simple prayer before sleeping. Moses Bliss was right in his song. Miracle no dey tire Jesus indeed.

Her excitement was obvious in her voice. "And these texts, do you have them saved somewhere?"

"Obviously yes. I have the soft copy in PDF and hard copy here with me. They are both at your service."

"Great." Zara stretched to collect her laptop from the bedside table. She pressed the boot button and reached for her phone. "Send the soft copy to my email. I just sent my email to you on WhatsApp. I will get the other one from you tomorrow morning."

"Sure. You enjoy the rest of your night." The call clicked off.

There was no enjoying the rest of the night. That she was sure.

She checked her emails when the laptop booted up. The PDF Paul sent to her was over thirty pages. Staring at a computer screen for at least one hour trying to read small text and pinpoint the conversations that matter, that she definitely can't do. The light hurt her eyes and she forgot her glasses in LA.

She dialed Paul's number. "Quick question. Can you come over to where I'm staying? With the physical copy of the texts."

"You want me to come over? Do you know what time it is?"

Zara let out a scoff. "I deserve that." She cleared her throat. "Can you come over though? I'm serious."

"Of course I can. I already marked the important parts out so it should be easier."

"I will send you the address." She was already typing a message out on her phone. "Hope your girlfriend won't mind?"

"Ha ha ha. Very funny." His phone chimed. "I'm on my way."

***

Zara and Paul sat cross-legged on opposite sides of the bed. The clock above Zara read 04:30 a.m., files and A4 papers lay scattered between them. The file she held was forty-five pages long. Only ten pages were marked as important though. Paul couldn't be of any more help even if he tried.

"So this basically means Mr. Ortega was in some kind of financial trouble?" Zara asked as she finished going through one of the pages marked as important.

"You could say that."

She closed the file. "Did you look into his financial history?"

Paul attention stayed glued on his gadget. "Don't insult me, Zara. Of course I did." He looked up when she said nothing. She stared pointedly at him. "Can I call you Zara?"

She continued staring at him.

His smile was awkward. "From that look, I guess not."

Zara shrugged. "You can call me Chizara. Zara is for special people."

"Okay then, Chizara. I looked into his finances and our victim was broke. Not his businesses though. He was a businessman to the core and refused to mix business with pleasure. He simply found other ways to sort himself out."

"And the account details the engagement money was paid into? I don't see it here." She searched through the papers scattered between them. "You know what, never mind. I will get the answers from her myself."

He gave her a skeptical look. "When has that ever worked?"

"It works for me."

He shook his head. "Not without evidence I'm afraid."

"Which is why you have to get them to confess to the crime."

"Well, you don't have to go through all that trouble. I got your back." He retrieved another file from his laptop bag. "I have everything you need right here. Thank me later with a nice meal maybe."

Zara made a face. "In your dreams." She reached for her phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Sopuruchi. Sorry I'm calling so early but I need two suspects brought in for questioning. I don't know the procedures for these things in Nigeria so I will leave it to you."